by Jami Gray
I swung my legs to the floor and pushed up with a groan. I stumbled after him and beelined to the coffee pot, listening to him talk to Imogen.
“Okay, Imogen, we’re here. What did you find out?” Zev leaned against the desk, his hand pressed flat near the phone and his gaze on me as I emptied out the dregs and rinsed the coffee pot.
“The coroner is filing his report in the morning, but since he knew I wanted the results ASAP, he called.” Imogen’s voice held a rough edge, indicating that we weren’t the only ones dealing with a long-ass day. “Physically, there’s no connection between Chloe and Jonas’s deaths, but he performed an Orenda exam.”
I stopped prepping a new pot and looked at Zev, who explained, “Orenda exam was developed by the First Nations as a way to test for the residual traces of magic on, or in, natural objects. It’s a gold standard for magical forensics.”
“It came back positive but unknown,” Imogen said. “He then tested Chloe and Jonas’s blood against the thing that died in the hotel room. There’s no doubt that the magic used on that animal was used with both Chloe and Jonas too. Thing is, the coroner can’t tell if the magic was introduced into their blood via injection or a magical attack.”
“So there’s a high chance Neil decided to use the serum on humans,” Zev said darkly.
“Most likely,” Imogen said. “Or Neil used it on himself and attacked Chloe and Jonas.”
“The sleeper,” I blurted as my brain snapped into gear, skipping steps and taking crazy turns that made scary sense. When Zev frowned at me, I explained, “The sleeper that attacked Umber, the one ACRT picked up. Any chance we can get our hands on a blood sample from him?”
“You think Neil dosed him?” Zev's tone was flat with skepticism.
“No… I don’t know… maybe.” I stumbled over the ideas slamming together in my head.
“Why would Neil waste his time with some random sleeper?” Imogen asked with a hint of frustration that I ignored.
“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but bear with me here, okay?” I set the coffee to brew and faced Zev, folding my arms. “If Neil injected himself and killed Chloe and Jonas, leaving magical traces behind, what’s to keep the same thing from happening if one of Neil’s animal experiments got loose and attacked a human?” It was easy to read the doubt on Zev’s face, but I pushed forward, feeling like I was clinging to spiderwebs. “Neil’s homemade lab, Etched Chaos, the alley where Jonas was found, the hotel—they’re all within what, ten miles at most? Sleepers tend to stick to areas they’re familiar with. They don’t roam far. Then there’s the timing of everything. Neil going under, Jonas getting killed, Umber getting attacked by the sleeper, all of that happened in the last…” I did a quick estimate. “Four days?”
“Something ripped out of cages in that lab.” Imogen’s words sounded forced, as if she didn’t want to add credence to my suggestion.
Zev ran a hand through his hair and blew out a hard breath. “Dammit.” He reached out to the phone and hit buttons until the sound of ringing filled the line.
“Yeah?” Bryan’s grumpy voice answered.
“Got something to share.” Zev proceeded to fill Bryan in on the conversation so far while Imogen and I listened. “On top of that, Jonas sent an email to Michaels and blind copied Trask, warning there were issues with the data on the project.”
“What kind of issues?” Imogen asked.
“He didn’t specify.”
“That makes sense,” she muttered.
“How so?” Zev glowered at the phone.
“I tracked down a friend of Jonas’s, a buddy he works out with, and the last time he saw him, Jonas was acting squirrelly—the buddy’s words, not mine. When his friend pushed for answers, Jonas admitted he was struggling with something at work and was trying to figure out who to share his concerns with.”
“Are we thinking Neil killed Jonas, then?” Bryan asked.
“If he did, how did the two connect?” I said.
“Maybe he approached Jonas like he did Kerri,” Zev said.
“And what?” I asked. “Jonas turned him down, threatened to expose him, so Neil loses his mind and kills him?”
“I’ve seen crazier shit,” Bryan said. “And if Neil’s jacked up on that serum, there’s no telling how messed up his mind is or what he’s willing to do to get what he wants.”
“And if someone else is pulling his strings, they may aim him at Kerri,” Imogen added. “Especially since she’s the last one standing and the only one who can replicate the formula.”
Oh crap, I hadn’t even thought of that. “How much security do you have on her?”
“I’ll be calling in more,” Imogen said grimly.
“All right, people,” Zev said, regaining control of the conversation. “We’ve got a lot of strings floating around. Time to tie some off. Bryan and Imogen, I don’t want you two solo, so team up and go back to Neil’s place, tear it apart, see what you can find. If you strike out, go back to that damn lab and do the same there. Rory and I will finish up with the street cams and see if we can’t track his ass to narrow down his hiding spot.”
Orders received, Imogen and Bryan signed off. I stared at Zev in the heavy quiet, my stomach leaden and worry nibbling at my mind. “Zev…” I didn’t know what I was going to say, but he seemed to.
“Don’t speculate. It won’t do us any good.” He pushed off the desk and stopped in front of me, brushing his knuckles over my jaw. “Let’s just focus on what’s in front of us. We’ll deal with the rest when and if it hits.”
I held his gaze for a long moment before giving in. “Fine, but I want it noted for the record that I think this whole situation sucks.”
That got me a faint grin. “Noted.”
“Go.” I waved a hand. “Queue up the next exciting rendition of Still Life on the Streets, while I get us coffee.”
He turned back to the computer, and I did the only thing I could—I poured coffee and settled in for another torturous session of film watching.
Chapter Nineteen
“I think my eyes are bleeding.” I sat back with the heels of my palms pressed against my burning eyes. My butt was numb, my lower back felt like a pretzel, and despite the copious amounts of coffee, my brain was blurry.
“Take a break,” Zev suggested from his supine position on the couch, where he’d dropped about ten minutes earlier.
“Not sure that will help.” Still, I pushed back from the desk and stood. After hours of sitting, my muscles weren’t exactly cooperating. I tried to muffle a groan as I straightened and stretched, easing out the stiff kinks.
“Did you find anything?” he asked in a husky growl, the rasp of it sparking a couple of intriguing possibilities on how to get him to sound like that more often. The arm over his eyes shifted, his dark-chocolate gaze locking onto me. “Rory?”
I blinked. “Uh?”
His lips quirked. “Did you find anything?”
I rubbed my face hard. Right, the street surveillance tapes that are my personal sixth level of hell. Bryan and Imogen had supplied us with video from an auto garage that sat across the street from Neil’s building. With the entrance to the lab being on the back side, there was no direct coverage, so we were piecing together what we could from the surrounding storefronts. It was spotty and haphazard, but I was impressed with how much footage they’d managed to get. Most of the owners were understandably hesitant to share, and after watching the comings and goings, I had a fairly good idea why.
I dropped my hands and meandered over to the sitting area where Zev lay. “Business at the auto shop is hopping from one to four in the morning, especially on the weekends.”
His grin was faint as he angled his body to a sitting position, stretching those long legs out in front of him. “Chop shop.”
“Yep. Plus, it looks like the local coffee shop doubles as the neighborhood’s preferred pharmacy.” After spending hours watching the recordings, it wasn’t difficult to distinguish the street dealers
happily providing customers with something more than caffeine.
He chuckled. “The coffee shop? Seriously?”
“You know how hard it is to get motivated. Sometimes you need something with a little more oomph than a cup of joe on its own.”
He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. In that business, the key to success is accessibility.”
Yeah, hard to do business like that if no one can find you. Speaking of not being able to find someone… “Anything from Imogen and Bryan?”
Zev shook his head.
I turned and wandered over to the windows. Night had settled in, leaving the streetlights to paint the roads in a soft glow. A couple of hours back, Imogen had called in to let us know that she and Bryan had finished up with Neil’s place and were heading over to the lab. They’d run into an overly curious neighbor at Neil’s, which led to some fast-talking to ensure that the neighbor didn’t remain curious. Once inside, they tore the place apart looking for anything that would give us a clue about where he might hole up or who he might be working with. Other than finding indications that Neil had a woman visitor at some recent point, they came up frustratingly empty.
The stagnant state of play left us all frazzled, something that became increasingly clear during our phone conversation with Bryan, when even his responses skimmed the line of rude to the point that Zev had called him on it. Twice. Maybe it was time for all of us to call it a day.
As if he could read my mind, Zev said, “They should be finished soon. Once they check it, we’ll call it quits, try again tomorrow.”
I angled and leaned a shoulder against the window so I was facing him. “Are we going back to Kerri?”
“For starters, yeah.” He rubbed his jaw. “We need to know what discrepancies Jonas was worried about.”
I grimaced. “Since she didn’t mention the email in the first place, I’m not sure she’s going to share.”
A hard light gleamed in his eyes, and his face shifted from to grim and determined. “Oh, she wi—”
His phone danced across the end table, cutting him off. He picked it up, looked at the screen, frowned, then swiped his thumb and brought it to his ear. “Imogen?”
When he straightened abruptly and shot to his feet, I went wired. His eyes came to me, but it was clear he wasn’t seeing me, because he snapped, “Where are you?” He started toward the elevator, and I followed. “We’re fifteen minutes out. Can you hold till then?” He hit the button. “Right. Do what you need to. We’re heading out now.”
The elevator doors slid open. I stepped inside, and Zev came in behind me. He pocketed his phone and smashed the button for the garage, a frown darkening his face.
The mood roiling off him wasn’t conducive to questions, but I had to know. “What’s wrong?”
“Imogen thinks Bryan tripped a magical trap.”
“At the warehouse?”
“Yeah.”
That doesn’t make sense. “But we cleared it.” I caught his look as it hit me. “Neil went back there, didn’t he?”
Before Zev could answer, the doors opened, and he was out. I stayed at his heels as he ran to his SUV. The beep of the locks releasing came just before I demanded, “Keys.”
He pulled up short and shot me a look. “What?”
“Keys. Transporter, remember?”
He tossed the keys toward me as I ran to the driver’s side. By the time his ass touched the seat, I had the engine lit. I barely waited for his door to close before I reversed out of the space, aimed us toward the exit, and hit the gas, rubber squealing against the cement. My magic revved in time with the engine, shifting my perception to preternatural sharpness until the SUV and I were one and the same. Typically, I preferred the lighter handling that came with the sportier sedans, but the heavy SUV was surprisingly responsive. I ignored the curses coming from under Zev’s breath as I wove my way through the decidedly slower traffic. Not that there was much, considering we were closing in on ten on a Thursday night.
I loosened my hold on my magic, letting it deepen the connection between the vehicle and me. Even in my heightened magical state, my pulse stayed level and my hands steady as my situational awareness expanded, enabling split-second reaction times. Magic-laced adrenaline raced through my veins, generating a high no street drug could beat. By the time I turned into the ally by the makeshift lab, my face ached from the wild grin stretching across it.
Throwing the SUV into park, I checked the time and resisted pumping my fist in victory. Seven minutes, twelve seconds. I’d managed to shave off half the time. I turned my grin to Zev. “Yes!”
Even in the barely lit interior, he seemed a little pale. He uncurled his hand from the chicken handle and shoved open his door. “A little warning next time, Rory.”
“Killjoy,” I muttered as I got out and joined him at the hood. I clocked Imogen’s two-seater a few spaces down. The SUV’s headlights were aimed at the partially open door to the lab.
“Imogen? Bryan?” Zev called.
When no one answered, I exchanged a worried look with Zev. That’s not good. My skin prickled as Zev pulled his magic up, the faint shimmer of blue erupting over his hands and flickering like silent flames along his arms. Untangling my magic from the SUV so I could snap my armor into place took me a few seconds, but once that was done, I reached out with my power, trying to get a sense of what lay in wait.
“Anything?” Zev’s voice was low, staying just between us.
I shook my head and stretched my magical muscle a little more, ignoring the resulting ache. It wound its way inside and rippled outward like a puddle, slowing inching across the space. A sudden wicked sting, like a paper cut on steroids, made me hiss and pull back. “To the right back corner.”
“Can you expand your shield?”
During our discussion about what I could and couldn’t do with my Prism magic, I’d admitted to being able to cover a second person so long as they stayed within about six feet of me. “Yeah, but don’t forget to keep close.”
It took a bit of concentration, but I was able to shift my magic until it enclosed Zev. It was the weirdest feeling, as if I was trying to stuff two people into a suit made for one. I could feel it straining at the edges and made a mental note to practice, to increase not just my control but my speed, too, as both needed to be top-notch for this to work under fire.
“Ready,” I said.
Taking me at my word, Zev moved forward, taking the lead, his hands at his sides, his magic roiling in readiness. He pushed the door so it swung inward and stepped inside. There was no need for a flashlight because the light of his magic was more than enough to illuminate our way.
I stayed right behind him, eyes peeled for an attacking Frankenstein cat-rat, hulked-out cicadas, Imogen, Bryan, or anything that moved. Nothing rushed forward—well, nothing physical, but something slammed against my Prism hard enough to force a grunt from me.
“Back right corner,” I snapped to Zev.
The blue fire of Zev’s magic lashed out and connected, igniting a silent explosion that sent Zev and me both stumbling back. Someone had definitely come back and laid a trap. My ears rang, and my thoughts felt muffled. An oily miasma of wrongness lapped at my magic, making my stomach churn.
“Zev?”
I could barely hear myself, so I was surprised to hear him ask, “You okay?”
“Not really.” There was nothing to be gained by lying. “What the hell is that?”
He didn’t bother with an explanation but focused on the immediate need. “Can you hold it back?”
“If you promise to do whatever you’re going to do quickly.” The slimy, unnatural whatever it was oozed against my magic, a sensation so disturbing that I shuddered and swallowed back an urge to vomit.
Inside the shield of my power, Zev’s magic glowed brighter and began to writhe as if alive. It took a second for me to realize he was casting a counterspell to whatever was crouched in that corner. I narrowed my eyes in an effort to see wha
t he was doing, but all I could make out were his arms, raised in a familiar mage pose—extended with palms forward. The pressure of his power shoved against mine, forcing me to make adjustments to the overstretched shield to accommodate it.
“When I hit one, drop the shield,” he said. I wanted to protest, but he didn’t give me a chance. “Three… two… one.”
I dropped the shield. His spell shot forward with vicious force and hit the corner like a silent bomb. I slammed the shield back up as the magical impact wave shot back with stunning ferocity. The leading edge caught us, sending us sliding backward a couple of feet, but the shield buffered the main impact wave. When I caught my breath, I found myself crouched on the ground, arms above my head in a useless protective posture. In front of me, Zev was on one knee with a hand braced against the ground.
I lowered my arms and flattened my palms against the concrete. “You okay?” I croaked.
“I’m good.” His voice sounded equally hoarse.
I realized the grossly disturbing presence was gone. “What the hell was that?”
His head hung down, his shoulders shuddering. “Someone tried to reopen the portal.”
More than my stomach quailed. “So much for Neil being shit at spell work.”
Zev's head rose, then he turned to look over his shoulder at me. His eyes burned with an unholy light that made my pulse trip. “I’m not sure this is Neil’s handiwork.”
Before I could ask why, a shriek broke through the night and was abruptly cut short. It sounded awfully familiar. “Was that—”
“Imogen!” Zev was on his feet and running for the door.
I quickly pulled my shield back before he could tear it apart and stumbled after him. I burst outside to see Zev loping along the cement block wall that separated it from the lot behind it. I picked up my pace as he disappeared into the shadows where the feeble lights didn’t reach. With my luck, he’d disappear, and I’d be left alone with whatever the hell was out there hunting.
